n a carriage, she
never got anything but the back seat. Poar Jemima! I can see her now
in my lady's SECKND-BEST old clothes (the ladies'-maids always got the
prime leavings): a liloc sattn gown, crumpled, blotched, and greasy; a
pair of white sattn shoes, of the color of Inger rubber; a faded yellow
velvet hat, with a wreath of hartifishl flowers run to sead, and a bird
of Parrowdice perched on the top of it, melumcolly and moulting, with
only a couple of feathers left in his unfortunate tail.

Besides this ornyment to their saloon, Lady and Miss Griffin kept a
number of other servants in the kitching; 2 ladies'-maids; 2 footmin,
six feet high each, crimson coats, goold knots, and white cassymear
pantyloons; a coachmin to match; a page: and a Shassure, a kind
of servant only known among forriners, and who looks more like a
major-general than any other mortial, wearing a cock-hat, a unicorn
covered with silver lace, mustashos, eplets, and a sword by his side.
All these to wait upon two ladies; not counting a host of the fair sex,
such as cooks, scullion, housekeepers, and so forth.

My Lady Griffin's lodging was at forty pound a week, in a grand sweet
of rooms in the Plas Vandome at Paris. And, having thus described their
house, and their servants' hall, I may give a few words of description
concerning the ladies themselves.

In the fust place, and in coarse, they hated each other. My lady was
twenty-seven--a widdo of two years--fat, fair, and rosy. A slow, quiet,
cold-looking woman, as those fair-haired gals generally are, it seemed
difficult to rouse her either into likes or dislikes; to the former,
at least. She never loved any body but ONE, and that was herself. She
hated, in her calm, quiet way, almost every one else who came near
her--every one, from her neighbor, the duke, who had slighted her at
dinner, down to John the footman, who had torn a hole in her train. I
think this woman's heart was like one of them lithograffic stones, you
CAN'T RUB OUT ANY THING when once it's drawn or wrote on it; nor could
you out of her ladyship's stone--heart, I mean--in the shape of an
affront, a slight, or real, or phansied injury. She boar an exlent,
irreprotchable character, against which the tongue of scandal never
wagged. She was allowed to be the best wife posbill--and so she was; but
she killed her old husband in two years, as dead as ever Mr. Thurtell
killed Mr. William Weare. She never got into a passion, not she--she